The Cowardly Lion
by MTK4FUN
Summary: Rye Mellark grows up and finds love in this 1940s historical AU one-shot. Written for the Fall 2016 MoreS2SL.


**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games Trilogy.**

 **1932**

"Is it a pig?" She walked around the chalk picture I'd drawn on the sidewalk in front of the bakery, studying it from every angle.

I shook my head. My younger brother Peeta, who was upstairs sick in bed, was the best artist in my family, even my older brother Phyl could draw, but not me. "Guess again."

She pointed to the creature's face. "Are those whiskers?"

"Yes."

"Is it a cat?"

"No."

"Oh, I give up."

"You can't give up Delly. That's not how the game is played."

She stomped her foot, causing her long corkscrew curls to sway. She put her hands on her waist. "Rye Mellark, you tell me what it is right now." Her lower lip slid up over her upper lip causing her mouth to form an exaggerated pout.

"All right. It's a lion. Just like Leo the Lion who announces the start of every movie at the Mockingjay Theater."

"But where's its mane? Leo the Lion has a big mane."

I pointed to a wavy line circling the creature's head.

Delly squinted her eyes and walked completely around my sidewalk creation to study it yet again. Finally she turned to me with a smile. "I see it now."

She squatted down in her polka-dotted dress to trace a finger lightly over its chalky head. "Yes, it most definitely looks like a lion."

I suspected she was only agreeing with me to be polite, but I hoped I was wrong because I _wanted_ Delly to think well of me. I had a crush on the girl next-door.

As for lions, well maybe I couldn't draw them, but I knew a lot about them. I'd spent a great amount of time observing them at the zoo. They had an innate bravery I envied. They were clever too. And when they roared, people paid attention.

A squeak sounded as the door of the shoe repair shop opened. Delly's father stuck his balding head out. "Delly Cartwright, stop playing and get in here now. There's work to do." The sharp tone in his voice caused her to jump up from the pavement and run the short distance to her family's business.

"See you," she murmured as she rushed inside."

Before the door closed shut, a slap sounded.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **1941**

"You going to the Harvest Dance, Mellark?"

I took one last drag on my cigarette and blew out a smoke ring, watching it float upward and fade away, before tossing the stub onto the ground.

"Yeah I'm going."

"Taking a girl?"

I let out a snort. "Nah."

Only a fool would spend a cent on any of the girls at District Twelve High. They were all looking to lock guys up for keeps. I'd experienced that firsthand when I took Clove Roberts to a movie at the Mockingjay Theater and to get an ice-cream soda afterwards. She wouldn't stop talking about the taffeta, or maybe it was satin, dresses the attendants were going to wear at her wedding. Did she intend for me to be her groom at this fancy affair? It gave me the willies.

I had big plans after graduation next spring and it didn't involve staying around this town. I was going to see the world. No girl was going to anchor me down.

Besides, I didn't know how to dance. And I wasn't about to embarrass myself in front of everyone.

"You got a date for it, Cato?" I could tell he did by the way his mouth was twitching, like it was ready to burst.

"Sure do. I'm going out with the girl who has the biggest breasts in this whole damn school. Hell, each one is the size of a cantaloupe melon cut in half. I can't wait to feel them up."

I chuckled at his crude, impassioned speech, and searched my mind to figure out what girl Cato could possibly be referring to. How had I missed seeing this buxom beauty? "What's her name?"

"Delly Cartwright."

Delly Cartwright? I hadn't thought about her in years. Could it even be the same girl? The Delly of my memory was forever the age of Shirley Temple. She even looked a little like Shirley with her stout figure, curls, and pouting face.

Her parents had owned a shoe repair shop next to my family's bakery. But Mr. Cartwright died suddenly when Delly was seven. My mother said he'd gotten raging drunk to celebrate the end of Prohibition, and fell and bumped his head. My dad told her to stop spreading rumors. At any rate, Delly's mother had sold the business and they'd moved away.

Had Delly moved back to town?

"You know her?" Cato asked.

"No." But a sick feeling came over me as I considered Cato's words. He may have been a friend, but he was a regular pig. Surely the girl that I had a long-ago crush on wouldn't be caught dead with him. At least I hoped not.

xxxxxxxxxxx

I saw Cato first as they walked into the gym that was decorated with streamers. His arm was looped through his date's. It _was_ Delly Cartwright, _my_ Delly. Okay she wasn't mine, but she was the same girl I remembered - grown up. She hadn't gained much in height though; she was at least a foot shorter than me.

But Cato was right about her figure. Her plump form had thinned out or maybe the weight had been reapportioned. Her tiny waist only accentuated her large breasts and round bottom.

Her hair was shorter than when she was little, but it still hung in curls right above her shoulders, only now the curls weren't in ringlets, but wavy like Jean Harlow's before she died.

She wore a blue dress with a full skirt, and a gauzy-bodice that hinted at her ample chest. The dark fabric made her platinum-colored tresses and big blue eyes stand out. In truth, she was stunning.

How in the hell had I not known that Delly was a student at my school? But the bigger question was, what lies had Cato told her that convinced her to go to the dance with him?

Delly's cheeks were flushed and a smile sat on her face, so I guessed she was happy. Still I couldn't help thinking she was an innocent lamb ready to be slaughtered. When they reached me, Cato introduced us.

Delly's eyes opened wide as she took me in. I guess she recognized me too.

"Has your drawing improved any Rye?" she teased, making it sound as if we'd been sketching animals on the sidewalk only yesterday.

"No."

She asked about the bakery and Cato eyed us suspiciously.

"I thought you said you didn't know her."

Delly gave Cato a curious glance as if surprised that he'd been talking to me about her. "Rye and I were neighbors when we were younger," she told him. "I used to draw chalk animals on the sidewalk in front of his parent's bakery with him and his brother Peeta."

She turned to me. "Is Peeta at the dance too?"

I shook my head. Peeta didn't have the courage to invite the girl he liked so he'd stayed home.

"Peeta?" Cato snorted. "Don't you mean Peter?"

Delly shot me a confused look.

"My dad gave us all bread nicknames when we were little," I explained to the both of them. "He called Phillip, Phyl for phyllo bread; he turned my name into Rye for well, rye bread; and Peter became Peeta for pita bread. We still go by those names at home, but I guess I'm the only one who uses my nickname in public."

"I never knew that," Delly said.

Cato punched my shoulder. "What's your real name?"

"Ryan. But don't call me that unless you want trouble, cause I prefer Rye."

Cato smirked. "Well _Ryan_ Mellark, me and my date are going to get some punch."

I scowled at him, and then smiled at Delly. "Nice catching up with you. Have a good evening."

That was my last glimpse of her that night, no wait, I remember watching them on the dance floor. Cato's hand was all over Delly's back and sliding down toward her hips. For some reason it made me angry. I left to go outside and smoke with some of the other guys who came alone too.

The Monday after the dance, Cato stood in the boy's lavatory bragging. A few guys stood around him. "Well I had a fine time Saturday night. Delly Cartwright let me screw her."

I flushed the urinal and turned to wash my hands, but not before I mentally debated whether or not to give Cato Ableman a knuckle sandwich.

What in hell had Delly done?

The news spread. It wasn't long before most every guy in school knew, and probably half the girls as well. Guys were winking at Cato right and left, in the hallways, in the locker room, even in class.

It crossed my mind to wonder how the news was impacting Delly's reputation, but then if she was stupid enough to make nice with Cato, I guess she didn't care. It wouldn't surprise me if she had dates lined up for the rest of the school year.

A couple of weeks later on a Friday morning, I was standing at my locker talking to Cato and a few other guys when Delly approached. Everyone fell silent, except Eddie Cray who backslapped Cato and hooted.

Delly was pale, but she had a big smile plastered on. A sick sensation churned in my gut. I had a hunch she was angry, beyond angry, but she was hiding it behind a mask, showing a pleasant face to us all.

"Hello, Cato." Her voice was calm. "I need to go downtown after school. I was wondering if you'd like to join me."

Cato stood up straighter. "Well, it depends. Where are you going?" His eyes left hers and he looked around at his friends and sniggered. "Maybe we could rent a room for an hour or two."

Someone laughed.

Delly grimaced, but she ignored his crude remark. "I have to see the doctor. I think I may be pregnant and since you're the father I thought you'd like to come with me."

A collective gasp was heard. I never saw any group disperse so quickly. I wanted to get away too, but they were standing next to my locker and I needed my history book for class or the teacher would give me extra homework.

I fumbled with the combination lock trying not to listen to Delly and Cato, but I couldn't help but hear it all.

"I'm not the father of your damn kid," Cato hissed. "We never did anything."

I breathed in a sharp intake of air, inexplicably relieved at Cato's admission.

"That's right we never did." Delly kept her voice low, but her rage was apparent.

She certainly had good self-control. If it had been me, I'd already have decked Cato.

"But you told everyone in school that we made love. So why couldn't I be expecting your child?"

Cato's face turned red. "Look, I don't know what game you're playing, but don't try to pin a pregnancy on me. If you're in trouble it's because you're a tramp."

He strolled off, leaving her standing there.

I wanted to slink away, but I couldn't. I turned my head to glance at Delly. The girl beside me was demoralized. And she'd been my friend a long time ago.

"Are you really pregnant Delly?" I don't know why I asked. I only knew that I felt terrible for her if it were true.

She threw me an angry look. "No, I'm not. Just trying to get back at that jerk." She paused before adding. "You know what's funny, Rye. Cato didn't even kiss me good night after the dance. He escorted me to the door and then turned and ran to his car, like he was scared of me."

She shook her head in disgust and walked away. While I admired her bravery in getting back at Cato, cleverly embarrassing him in front of everyone by throwing his own words back at him – I couldn't help but think that she was as naïve as a lamb because she'd just put the final nail into what remained of her reputation.

I went to history class. By the end of the day the story was all over school. Cato Ableman had gotten Delly Cartwright pregnant.

As much as he denied it, no one believed him because he'd spent the previous couple of weeks telling every guy in school that they'd had sex. Described it in great detail, in fact.

The gossip might have gone on but when we returned to school on Monday, December 8th, the entire world had changed. The United States was at war.

Peeta and I were downstairs cleaning the oven on Sunday afternoon when we heard our mother screaming.

I took one look at Peeta and we both dropped our cleaning rags and ran, taking the stairs two or three at a time. Because of her loud cries, I thought our dad had collapsed and died. That morbid idea was in my mind because ever since Friday I'd been thinking about Delly and her father and wondering if the Cartwrights had never moved away what would Delly have been to me.

But when we got upstairs my dad was hugging my mom in front of the radio. She was hysterical. "We've been bombed," she cried. "The world is ending."

In a way she was right, because our world was completely changed after that day.

Cato didn't come to school on Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday either. On Thursday, someone told me that he'd gone to the recruitment office and signed up to fight, lying about his age.

By Friday the United States was also at war with Italy and Germany. We were all too busy dealing with Pearl Harbor memorials and war fervor to remember anything that happened before Sunday. It was a hell of a week.

Delly's rumored pregnancy had gone from the top of the gossip chain to the bottom.

When Phyl came home from college for Christmas, he announced to our parents that he was quitting school to join the U.S. Navy. His news caused my mother to ruin the holidays for the rest of us as she spent the entire time wailing about the Japanese, the Germans, President Roosevelt, and the unfairness of life in general.

I don't remember seeing Delly more than once or twice in the hallways of District Twelve High the rest of the school year. It crossed my mind to mention what she'd told me about Cato to some of the other guys to clear her reputation, but I never did.

Honestly, I can't even remember much about the rest of the school year, which is curious because I ended up taking the first place title for wrestling in our sports league, with Peeta taking second place. But school was superfluous when the world had turned upside down.

My parents had always planned for all of us to go to college. My dad's business had done well enough during the Depression. In fact, we were probably considered rich by many, although truly we were far from rich. But we always had food to eat, even if it was stale bread and pastries, and a place to sleep even if it wasn't a house, but a small apartment over our shop.

It was obvious that college was not going to be in the cards now, not that I had much interest in it anyway. I might as well volunteer to join the military while I still had my choice of which branch of the service to enter.

So despite my parent's wishes, the day after graduation I enlisted in the Navy like my older brother had done. It was a good time to leave home because my mother was on a rampage.

While doing the laundry she'd discovered a note in Peeta's pants' pocket from Katniss Everdeen that indicated that they'd been sneaking around ever since Valentine's Day. My mom's exact words were, "you can't date her Peeta. She comes from a trashy family."

Mom was bound and determined to nip that relationship in the bud, although I think she was about twelve years too late. My sappy brother had been pining for that girl since they were in kindergarten together.

Halfway through boot camp, I got a letter from my father with devastating news.

 _Phyl was killed in the Battle for Midway Island._ _Your mother isn't doing so well. Stay safe son_.

I never made it home after training. I was sent straight out to sea. Maybe other guys would play it safe after losing a family member, but I was the exact opposite. I _volunteered_ to work in the engine room, the most dangerous place to be since that's where the enemy targeted their torpedos.

Ships were blown out from beneath me. Once I was in the water for ten hours waiting to be rescued.

"Don't tread water. Conserve your energy. Lie on your back and float," a sailor named Finnick told me. He said he'd been the captain of his high school's swim team, so I figured he knew what he was talking about.

He was right; it worked. Floating _was_ far less tiring than treading water. Unfortunately it didn't help Finnick; a shark bit his arm off and he bled out.

It was no wonder I spent any free time I had on the ship, or the few times I got shore leave on one of the islands in the Pacific finding a way to numb myself. Although alcohol was illegal onboard the ship, there was always someone who had a stash. I even succumbed once to drinking torpedo juice - a mixture of pineapple juice and ethyl alcohol that fueled the torpedo motors.

It was the only way I could survive. No decent person could remain unscathed in the hell in which I found myself. Real warfare was nothing like the glorified version I'd watched so many times on the screen at the Mockingjay Theater.

Other guys talked of the war's end and going home, but I had no desire to go back. Every letter I received, and there weren't many, brought bad news.

 _Peeta lost his leg shortly after being sent to Italy. He's coming home._

 _Love, Dad_

 _Katniss Everdeen trapped Peeta into marrying her by getting herself pregnant. And of course they have nowhere to live so they're moving in with us. Don't do anything stupid Rye._

 _Yours, Mother_

I had to laugh at that letter. Poor Katniss, she must really love my brother to put up with our mother too.

 _Mom died. It was sudden. She was having problems walking up the stairs. The doctor thinks her heart gave out. Dad's taking it bad._

I set down Peeta's letter without reading the rest of it because I was so shocked. Our mom wasn't even fifty. Later, I picked it up to read again and realized I hadn't finished it.

 _Dad hired two girls to help in the bakery. One of them is our old neighbor Delly Cartwright. But she goes by the last name of Johnson these days._

 _Love, Peeta_

So Delly had wed. Thinking about her brought back memories of Cato and my failure to do anything to rectify his lie when I learned the truth of it. If I could have gone back in time, I would have punched my seventeen-year-old, brainless self. Still I hoped Delly had found someone decent at least, although in hindsight I wished I had dated her when I had the chance.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **1945**

I arrived home at the beginning of the week; I hadn't bothered to tell anyone I was coming. I stood outside the bakery smoking a couple of cigarettes before gathering the courage to go inside.

The smells overwhelmed me. It was as if the last three years of my life melted away, and my insides were as sticky as raw dough.

I didn't recognize the face behind the counter, a redhead who was bagging up some cookies for a customer.

She gave me a coy smile. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Rye Mellark. Is my dad or my brother here?"

Her eyes lit up and she beamed at me. "They're both in back. Let me get them."

She turned to go through the doorway that separated the front of the shop from the kitchen when she ran into a short, curvy woman with her hair tied up in a red bandana, carrying a tray of cookies.

"Henry said to refill the cookie display."

"Delly?" I called out.

Delly looked past the redhead and toward me, and then screamed. The tray tipped forward and cookies fell all over the floor.

My father rushed up behind Delly. "What's going on…."

His voice trailed off when he caught sight of me. He sidestepped his way past the mess on the floor and rounded the corner of the counter. He rushed forward and threw his arms around me, causing me to drop my duffle bag.

The Mellark family wasn't big on showing our affection to each other, but his reaction to my appearance was beyond anything I'd imagined.

When my father finally broke away, tears were streaming down his face and down mine as well.

"You look good son. A little thin, but nothing that we can't remedy."

"Thanks Dad."

Peeta was standing in front of me with a cane at his side. My little brother looked exhausted, but he punched my arm. "Welcome back Rye."

I hugged him too, cane and all.

In the meantime, the women had picked up the cookies and were waiting to greet me as well. My arms encircled the redhead first. I could feel the sharp bones in her back through her shirt and it brought back memories of some of the starving women I'd encountered while on shore leave in the Pacific.

Last was Delly. Her head only came to the middle of my chest, but she was soft and round and it felt like I was embracing a pillow. I had the strange thought that if I could lay my head on her ample bosom and take a nap, I'd wake up completely refreshed, a renewed man. I quickly let go of her, pushing that thought away and reminding myself that she was somebody's wife now.

My Dad had already turned the sign on the door to "closed." "Let's all go upstairs. We'll have some lunch and celebrate."

I picked up my duffle and followed him upstairs, with the others trailing after me. The living room had been transformed into a nursery. Peeta's and Katniss' twins were sharing a playpen and babbling, while a third, smaller baby slept in a cradle. Peeta introduced me to Katniss who I'd never officially met.

Their children, Hank and Hope, were as different in appearance as possible. Hank was dark-haired like his mother, and Hope was blonde like the Mellarks.

We were drinking champagne that my father said he'd purchased the day the war ended, when I noticed that Delly had disappeared.

"Where'd Delly go?"

"Nursing Sam," Katniss answered.

 _The third child was Delly's._

I studied the redhead whose name was Lavinia. She was pretty enough but as I listened to her conversation with Katniss it became apparent that she had a fiancé.

Everyone's lives had moved on and I didn't know where I fit in anymore.

They were all talking and laughing. My father held his namesake on his lap; Peeta tucked his daughter against his chest. Katniss and Lavinia carried in platters of grilled cheese sandwiches, sliced apples and pears, and cookies.

Eventually Delly returned and set her sleeping son down in the cradle. There was a look of satisfaction about her. It was clear that motherhood suited her. The rest of us were already done eating, so she ate while everyone talked. Her appetite was hearty, and it pleased me. After years of war, I was sick and tired of restraint and self-discipline.

Later, Delly picked up her sleeping boy, and she and Lavinia went home. Katniss and Peeta took the twins off to bed for a nap.

"We moved your things into Phyl's old room," my dad said.

"All right. My head was beginning to ache from the champagne and lack of rest. I hadn't slept well for a long while. I picked up the duffle bag I'd dropped by the front door. "I think I'll take a nap."

"Sure."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

I joined my dad early in the bakery the next morning, even beating Peeta downstairs. There was something soothing about the routine that takes place in a bakery in the early hours before dawn. No matter how long I'd been away, it was easy to fall back into the simple tasks.

"You must have been exhausted son to sleep straight through the evening. Did Hank wake you up in the middle of the night with his crying?"

"No. My body can sleep through all sorts of noise after the last few years."

"I suppose so." My dad kneaded the bread dough in front of him. "So, do you plan to stay at the bakery, then? It's probably too soon to ask, but…"

"I don't know Dad."

"Well you don't have to make up your mind right off. We've got room for you."

Maybe they did now, but Hank and Hope would soon need a room of their own, and I would have to find somewhere else to live.

I went upstairs for lunch later in the day. My dad said Katniss had made some sandwiches, and I walked in on Delly nursing her son on the couch. She had a blanket thrown over her shoulder covering her breasts and the child's head. The glint of light off the gold band on her left hand flashed at me.

"Excuse me, sorry," I murmured, my face growing warm as I backed toward the stairs.

"It's okay." Delly's cheeks turned pink.

Katniss sat in my dad's upholstered armchair thumbing through a copy of _Life_ magazine. She lifted her head to smirk at me. "The sandwiches are in the kitchen."

I hurried off in that direction and ate two sandwiches as slowly as I could, hoping that Delly was finished when I left the room. Eventually I had to leave. I needed to clean up the bakery kitchen.

When I came into the living room Delly was gone. Katniss was thumbing through the same magazine. "Hey Rye," she called as I walked past.

I stopped in place.

"Why don't you take Delly dancing?"

My eyebrows shot up. "Wouldn't her husband disapprove?"

"He's dead." Her voice was matter-of-fact. "Killed on D-Day."

"Oh." Judging from the size of her boy, I doubt the guy had ever met his son.

"She's still wearing her wedding ring, though. Are you sure she _wants_ to go dancing?"

 _Because I'm in no position to start something and I sure as hell don't even know how to dance._

"She wears her ring because she has a baby and she's tired of getting insulted by busybodies when she leaves it off.

"But she needs to do something to feel alive again."

I let out a loud huff of air. "You do realize that I'm half dead too."

"I know. Peeta was the same way when he got back. But at least you've got both your legs."

I had no reply to that because it _was_ true. My brother had it far worse than me.

"Peeta and I could go with you two. I haven't been dancing ever since…"

Her voice trailed off and I wondered if what had appeared to be a set-up with Delly was really a ruse for Katniss to get my brother out of the house.

 _I guess I could do it for Peeta's sake._

"But what about the kids? Dad can't watch them all."

"Delly lives with her aunt. She'll take care of Sam. And your dad can watch two sleeping babies. He's done it once or twice before."

It sounded as if Katniss had the whole thing planned out.

"Sae's has a band and dancing on Saturday night."

"Never heard of the place."

"It opened last year. But it's fancy, you'll have to dress up."

I supposed I could borrow a suit from my father.

So that's how I ended up at Sae's with Delly. She wore an orchid wrist corsage that Katniss insisted I buy for her. The color of the flower matched her pale violet dress. I noticed Delly had taken off her wedding band for the occasion.

I hadn't been on a regular date in some time – in fact, I'd paid for the last girl I'd been with – so I was a nervous wreck, mumbling my invitation to Delly one evening as she was carrying Sam out the bakery door.

An uneasy look had appeared on her face, but she'd readily agreed when she heard that Katniss and Peeta would be joining us. "It would be nice to get an evening out."

After the waiter brought our drinks, beer for me and my brother, and ginger ale for the ladies, Katniss and Peeta took to the dance floor as the musicians played a slow tune. I think Katniss was holding my brother upright, as he left his cane at the table.

"He's actually not too bad," I commented.

"He's had a difficult time," Delly said. "His prosthetic didn't fit right at first and he got a bad infection. But after he got better, the doctor fixed his new leg and now it works fine."

It was strange to hear Delly talking about my own brother because she clearly knew things about him that I didn't.

"How did you end up working at the bakery?"

"Katniss got me the job. We became friends in high school and stayed in touch after."

Mentioning high school reminded me of my cowardice. Eager to change the subject, I blurt out, "Do you want to dance?"

Immediately I wished I could take back my words. What was I thinking? Even though I'd asked her to go dancing with me, I'd actually been planning to sit tight and listen to the music.

Delly bit her lower lip. The look on her face was so serious that it startled me.

 _Oh, no. Someone must have told her I couldn't dance and she didn't want me to embarrass her._

"Okay," she finally agreed.

I led her onto the dance floor not having the least idea what to do, but hoping Delly did. To make it worse, the band started to play a lively number.

Peeta and Katniss went back to the table. I looked to the other men around me to copy their moves while attempting to keep up with Delly who appeared to be a natural.

After a few songs, we left the dance floor. Our food had arrived and we set to eating.

"Where'd you learn to dance like that?" Delly could have put Ginger Rogers to shame.

"I used to dance with the soldiers at the USO hall." Her face grew somber. "That's how I met my husband."

We danced some more after we finished our chocolate ice-cream, so did my brother and Katniss, but we left early because of the kids.

I dropped Peeta and Katniss off at the bakery first to relieve my dad of his babysitting duties. Then I drove Delly home. She lived about a mile away.

As we got close to her house, an odd memory surfaced, Delly telling me about Cato taking her to the door and running away like a scaredy-cat, not even kissing her good night.

Damn it all, I had to say something. I liked this woman beside me. Had been sweet on her when we were kids. Admired her bravery in high school when she confronted my jackass of a friend in such a clever manner. Was impressed with the loving care she showed her fatherless son, and was awed by her talent on the dance floor.

Parking in front of the house, I turned off the engine. "Can we talk for a minute?"

"Sure." She twisted in the seat to face me.

I got straight to the point. "I should have done something when Cato started that crap about you in school. I was a coward. I'm sorry."

"That was years ago, Rye. And it was my problem, not yours." She sounded floored at my apology.

"Well, it's bothered me. For a long while." Hell, I didn't want to admit it to her, but I'd even thought about it when I was floating on my back in the Pacific, watching the water turn red from Finnick's blood and wondering if that shark was going to return for dessert.

"Did you know Cato's dead?" she asked.

A shiver went down my back. I don't know why - so many people had died, so many lives taken by the war. I shouldn't have been surprised. Still I was.

"No, I didn't."

We sat in silence for a moment, before Delly spoke again. "I should be getting in." She reached for the door handle, and then turned back to me as if remembering something.

"I have to thank you. You know after Thom died, well, I didn't think I'd ever dance again."

"Hell I never thought I'd _ever_ dance."

She laughed. "Yeah you're pretty bad."

Her apt description caused me to guffaw loudly. She was no longer the girl with ringlets who lied to make me feel good about myself.

"Anyway I'm glad that it was you that I danced with."

"Why?"

She put her hands to her cheeks and took a deep breath. "I had such a crush on you when I was little. I don't know, it just seems right somehow that if I should dance again it would be with you."

I wanted to tell her about my long-ago crush on her, too, but she was already out of the car.

Leaping from my seat, I rushed around the vehicle to catch up with Delly as she walked up the stone path to the house. When she got to the door, she turned her head to look up at me expectantly.

In the harsh, white porch light, she appeared tired. Just like me. I guess we were both trying to make sense of the way our lives had turned out.

My heart thumped loudly but the sweet smile on her face encouraged and emboldened me. I bent down and kissed my childhood friend smack on the lips. She tasted of chocolate and her hair smelled faintly of powdered sugar, all ingredients that spoke to me of home. I was ready to pull back when she opened her mouth slightly and allowed me to deepen the kiss.

We must have been necking for a couple of minutes when the door opened and a gray-haired woman cleared her throat, causing me to set Delly, who I'd unconsciously lifted up from the ground, back down.

"Thanks again, Rye." Delly gave me a shy smile before going inside.

My dad had questioned me about my future plans and I'd answered honestly – I didn't know.

But things began to take shape in my mind as I drove home to the bakery. I'd always wanted to see the world, but the parts of it that I'd seen so far made me flinch in horror at the evil I'd witnessed. Maybe it was time to jettison my previous plan and start fresh.

I made up my mind to call Delly in the morning and invite her to come with me to the zoo. It had been far too long since I'd visited the lions. Maybe if we were lucky, we'd hear them roar.

 **THE END**

 **Author's Note: Leo the Lion is the mascot for the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer film studio. His roaring countenance has introduced all MGM movies since 1916.**

 **Only male lions develop manes, usually at the age of two years. The mane signals the onset of sexual maturity. The size and density of a lion's mane helps them appear larger and therefore more threatening, warning away possible opponents.**

 **During Prohibition (January 1920 through December 1933) the United States outlawed the manufacture, sale, and transport of alcoholic beverages. (Exceptions were made for medicinal and religious uses.)**

 **Shirley Temple was an American child movie star during the 1930s. She was famous for her curly, blonde hair, and her ability to sing and tap dance.**

 **Jean Harlow was an American film actress and sex symbol during the 1930s. She was known for her platinum-colored hair and was called "The Blonde Bombshell." She died in 1937 at age 26 from kidney disease.**

 **The bombing of Pearl Harbor in Hawaii by Japan on Sunday, December 7, 1941, resulted in the United States entering WWII.**

 **A peacetime draft was established in the United States before the war began in 1940. After the United States entered the war, recruitment offices were overrun with volunteers who were able to join any military branch that would accept them. In late 1942, volunteers were no longer accepted. Soldiers had to be drafted and had no choice in selecting the military branch in which they were placed. The service commitment for men in the U.S. military was for the entire length of the war.**

 **The Battle of Midway was a naval battle that occurred between June 4-7 of 1942. The United States defeated an approaching fleet of Japanese ships.**

 **WWII ended in Europe on V-E Day, May 8, 1945. The war in the Pacific Theater ended on August 15, 1945, when Japan called for a ceasefire.**

 **D-Day refers to the Allies' invasion of Normandy in France, which occurred June 6, 1944.**

 **Ginger Rogers was an American film actress who danced in many movies with actor/dancer Fred Astaire in the 1930s. It's been said that she was a better dancer than Astaire because "she did everything he did, but backwards and in high heels."**

 **The USO (United Service Organization) provided recreational entertainment to stateside soldiers during the war.**

 **Lastly on a personal note, the lie that Cato told about Delly and her response to it is based on a real-life event that my husband's stepmother experienced while in high school in the mid-1940s. I've always thought my stepmother-in-law's response was clever payback to the boy who cavalierly ruined her reputation to impress his friends. Although she's no longer living, I believe she would be pleased that I've incorporated her experience into this story (she was quite proud of the way she handled the situation) and would encourage all young women to use their wits to stand up to bullies like Cato.**


End file.
